


The Prince in Waiting

by aHostileRainbow



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Drama, Family, Friendship, Future Slash, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-09-19
Updated: 2010-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:45:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aHostileRainbow/pseuds/aHostileRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood may not make us who we are, but it certainly can be blamed for a revelation of royalty. And when your family, your land, your people, need you, what would you give up? Everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter I

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Lineage](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/8295) by Nyxelestia. 



The grey-haired gentleman abruptly froze, staring over the King’s shoulder. Paling and seeming to forget his surroundings, he focused on a single face near the back of the crowd and whispered, “Princess?”

Hunith sighed where she stood next to Merlin, just behind Arthur on the dais. Realizing that the truth would come out, with or without her consent, she decided to face her past with all the grace of her blood. Stepping forward, she stood before a man she recognized as Lord Geladry, one of the only men of the council she could stand. She felt all the years fall away in that moment and once more she was Princess Hunith of Dyfed, heir of King Rhodri the Great.

“It is I, Geladry. What is your business here? You should be made aware, if you come meaning any harm to me or my son, you come in vain. I gave my life to protect him once, and there are others here who would do the same.”

If it was possible, the man paled further and fell to his knees at the feet of the servant woman, who currently stood like the princess she would always be before him.

“Your Highness, I mean neither you, nor your son, any harm. I came this day in the hopes of garnering an alliance with King Uther of Camelot.”

Here he paused, as if uncertain whether to continue. Hunith, realizing he was unsure of how to deal with her, spoke in the most imperious tone she had ever managed.

“Lord Geladry, you will continue and explain your presence to your Princess. Immediately.”

Geladry seemed to relax, as though a weight had been taken off his shoulders with the words. Gazing up at her for a moment with gratitude shining in his eyes, he spoke softly, “Thank you, my Princess. It is so good to have you back.”

Straightening up, he continued with the strong, eloquent voice she had always remembered him for.

“Your Highness, Dyfed is failing. Since your father’s death and your disappearance, the council factions have been fighting for the right to rule Dyfed, like rabid dogs over a meat chop. The realm is falling, slowly. Everyone suffers. Nobles fear to speak even in their own homes, never sure of who is on what side, who is spying, or who will attempt to assassinate them in the next moment merely to prove a point. The common folk starve and die in the streets. Crops have failed and water is scarce and no one may help them, for all those with the ability are too focused on the political strife. Only myself and a select few others have searched years to find you and try to restore you to your proper throne. We had all but lost hope. Finally, we decided on our last resort; we would beg Camelot for aid. We are desperate. There is civil war brewing and none have been able to halt its progression. But now I have found you, Princess. And I am begging you: your kingdom needs you. Your people need you. Please.”

For a moment, Hunith was speechless with shock; she had of course heard there was trouble in her homeland, but she had had no idea it was so terrible. Looking upon this desperate Lord, a man she had always liked, who had always held himself with the utmost pride, begging her on his knees for aid…she knew she could never refuse. Her son was now grown and no longer needed her to always take care of him. But her people needed her desperately.

Her only wish was that she could bring Merlin with her. She loved her life in Ealdor, it was what she had always dreamed of, and she was uncertain whether she was strong enough to save her land and her people. To be the Queen, the ruler, they required. But Merlin…Gaius was right. She had raised him to be a Prince, and a good one. He was strong and fair and loyal, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he decided to save Dyfed, it would be saved. However, she could never ask this of him. She could never take him from his friends and Arthur, the life he had made in Camelot. So she would do what she had to. What she could. And just have to hope it was enough.

With a heavy sigh, Hunith took one step closer and rested her hand lightly on Geladry’s bowed head.

“I will go—”

“No,” a deep, familiar voice spoke from behind her and she felt her hope rise even as her heart broke for him. “I will go, Lord Geladry, in my mother’s stead. My mother is happy where she is, and I will not let her give up the life she loves a second time to protect me.”

Turning to face him, now beside her, she watched as her Merlin stood like the Prince she had raised. Feeling a swell of pride beneath her breast, she offered him a beautiful, sad smile. She knew she could not—would not—change his mind in this. And seeing him, standing straight beside her as she had taught him, holding himself with all the power he so rightly possessed, she knew he would succeed where she never could have.

Merlin kept his face firm and determined as he held himself like his mother always trained him to. He only hoped no one else could spot the storm of confusion, fury, and terror that writhed below the surface of his calm façade. He knew how much his mother loved Ealdor, though, and he could hear her sadness in her voice when she agreed to leave it. And while he still did not understand much of what was occurring, he knew now she had given up her life for him, and he would not let her give everything up again.

Turning on his heel, he resisted the urge to hunch his shoulders and bow deeply before the King Uther on his throne. Rather, he forced himself to stand tall and proud, offering only the half bow a Prince should offer a King, realizing now why his mother had always made him learn each set of etiquette growing up.

“Your Majesty, I believe my mother, Lord Geladry and I have much to discuss. If you would allow it, we would request the use of one of your private rooms.”

Allowing nothing to show on his face, Merlin sighed internally when the King gave a regal, “Of course,” and waved a hand for them to leave with only a short moment of uncertainty.

Leading the way, Merlin brought his mother and the Lord to a chamber only a short way from the throne room, where he knew Arthur often had lessons as a child. The room was simple, but elegant, with a couch and two chairs of fine cream thread before a warm hearth. Slumping into a chair, Merlin ignored his mother’s clearing her throat and rubbed his temples.

“Alright. So who wants to explain to me what in the world is going on?”


	2. Chapter II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur broods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short. At least it's something, eh? Not sure when this may be continued or if it will, but there's always a chance. I never thought I'd continue from the first chappie.

_I'm going to gut him, _was all the response Arthur could manage half an hour later, even in his own mind.

After his manservant had left the room with his father's consent, he had stood frozen upon the dais, unable to move or think. He was actually a little disgusted with himself for that reaction; he had been trained better and dealt with far worse. But just the thought of Merlin _leaving him_—

Wait. That wasn't right. He was upset because obviously Merlin had been keeping secrets from him and…and what? What right did he have to know everything about the man? He was just his master, perhaps at best, his friend. There was no logical reason for him to be behaving in this manner. Merlin had a right to his privacy and just because he couldn't be bothered to inform his _friend_ that he was a _bloody Prince_…did not mean—_oh, the hell with it!_

Arthur stomped down the corridor and gave up on reasoning for the moment. With a low growl, he allowed his fury to build and consume him. He marched for the training grounds at speed with the single-minded attention he typically took to battle. Wrenching his sword from the scabbard at his hip, he set to taking out every last ounce of frustration in his bones on invisible opponents and the weathered trees.

The sun sunk lower on the horizon and almost against his will, he felt himself beginning to relax into the familiarity of movements he had rehearsed a thousand times over the last decade and some. There was nothing complicated in training. There was just your body and your weapon. He couldn't even consider it 'clearing his mind' as Gaius always described meditation. In this state, it was like he had nothing to clear. He could no more think or worry than he could stop breathing.

Hours later he felt he was as close to peace as he ever got and slowed to a halt. Slumping to the ground, he considered what he could glean from his father's reaction to events, since even thinking about Merlin made him tense. Uther had shown no sign of surprise or unhappiness to the inexperienced eye, but Arthur had spent years studying his father's body language. The king was _not happy_. Uther did not enjoy surprises of any kind and, damn, if this wasn't a surprise.

He panted a sigh, shaking himself all over like one of the castle hounds to rid himself of excess sweat and detritus gathered in his mock battles. He still wanted to gut Merlin…but felt that he could at least wait for an explanation first. And he would be getting an explanation if he had to tie his infuriating manservant to his bed. _There's a thought_, a sly, leering voice whispered at the back of his mind. He shook himself again, very deliberately not attempting to interpret that comment…or wonder when he'd started hearing voices.

_Just go find Merlin so you can hear him out…and beat him to a bloody pulp. _Arthur grinned. That was an excellent suggestion. And Gaius said hearing voices was a bad thing.


End file.
